Palace Garden
by Elizabeth Fryn
Summary: He’s finally made it back to Konan. It’s been months, nearly six. She’d be busy, Houki’s head lady, keeping people calm even though she was going mad inside and maybe she’d think of him, every now and then.


She gazes over the balcony and across the palace, and further on, Konan. She wonders where all of them are each day, especially her dear friend Nuriko. Hopefully they have good hair dressers in the afterlife, she smiles to herself. Hopefully there's somebody who'll take care of each of them. She even hopes that somebody is looking after Tasuki and his loud mouth. She wonders about Chichiri a little more than the others. He was the first person she told about the big mess she'd made of her short life, and even though he'd barely known her three days he'd let her cry herself to sleep on his shoulder. Eventually she'd returned the favour. The magic of it all was that nobody had a clue.

She hated herself for not saying something before. In the days before they'd all had to part ways because they had lives before Miaka that called out to them to be resolved. There was no way to know really, even with her necklaces she could only feel that life did exist, not where. She sighs, wanders over a delicate bridge and gazes into the still, cool water. Blue eyes look back at her and narrow because she thinks it could be better, her reflection. She undoes the ribbons in her dark hair and lets the curls tickle her collarbone, but it barely helps.

Looking defeated, she turns and heads back to her room. There she changes into her old clothes- simpler and more revealing than palace finery, but far more _her_. She decides to go down into the town, where she could see the moving lights of festival lanterns from the balcony. Things should be simpler down there. She brushes a loose curl from her eyes. You'll see.

***

He's finally made it back to Konan. It's been months, nearly six. He thinks about all of his comrades, every day. He can feel them in the air, but he only knows where Tasuki and Reika are now. Miaka took Taka home, and all he can do is hope that Taka is keeping his promise to make the little priestess happy. He smiles. He probably is.

He can feel that Tasuki is happy, too. He hadn't seen him for maybe three months, but the young redhead had grown up since Miaka left. In a way, they all had, he decided. It was Reika that he hadn't seen for the longest time. He thought of her in the palace, looking down on the alleys of the city, conjuring flowers for her hair from the magic marks on her skin. She'd be busy, Houki's head lady, keeping people calm even though she was going mad inside. As ever. And maybe she'd think of him, every now and then.

He shakes his head. Of course he thinks of them, he knows she does because he dried her tears every morning for the week after the priestess left because the weight of her soul just got to be too much in the dark. She used to tell him it was just silly nightmares, but she said all of their names at one time or another. The silly thing is he still wishes that she would think of him with something other than regret on her mind. Something more.

His mind goes back to a dream of his own. They're standing together in the garden, and he has his mask off. He kisses her gently and when she kisses him back, he knows that she _has _been thinking with more than regret. In fact, she's been looking for him.

There is a festival on and Chichiri melts into the crowd and the colours. His mask is firmly in place.

***

She twirls a long strand of hair around her fingers as she wanders through the crowd. Some people recognise her and bow, but she quickly thanks them and moves away, uncomfortable. She's not even a Suzaku Warrior, and she hardly did what Taiitsukun asked. So many of her friends were dead, because she couldn't help. Houki calls her modest, but she denies it. She says she's not modest. Usually, she's embarrassed.

She's about to buy a coloured trinket from a little girl when one of her necklaces pulses so strongly she jumps. She quickly pays the girl and finds the offending silver strand. Someone's here, and she fumbles with the burning chain until she finds the glowing charm.

It's him. He's back in Konan- and she decides to find him.

***

Chichiri finds an empty table and sits down, and a pretty girl brings him a small drink and the offer of food. When he refuses she begins to offer something else. He sometimes curses the mask that makes him seem constantly pleased with this situation. He refuses that too and takes a sip of his drink.

After just a few of the small glasses he is feeling pleasantly warmed. He looks at all of the people out dancing, eating and playing games. They are so happy and it's their doing. He should be pleased, but he's distracted. I should go and find her you know, he thinks. But what will he say?

He's had some time to himself now, to build up his fantasy. And that dream, that annoying dream that he can't forget. Chichiri knows that he's a smart man, most of the time. He hates this helplessness. In his anger he lets go out his chi, and the earthenware in his hand splinters. He flinches as it stings, and even swears though nobody hears him. Reika loved to hear him swear, he thought with a wry grin. The pretty girl hands him a cloth to wrap his hand in and offers to stay, but he sends her away for another drink.

***

Reika is distracted as as she searches through the main square where all the food and drink stands are set up. She's always been better at the what of these things than the where, and she twists her necklace to breaking point around her fingers in frustration. She doesn't notice the leers from the drunker townsmen, not until one grabs her around the waist. She elbows him in the face with a start. After she's placed him in the care of an older friend, she turns around and suddenly there he is. Sitting at a table drinking something from small liquor cups, looking the same as the day he left.

She smiles, and it's one of those involuntary smiles that stretch across every part of your face. It's one part self satisfaction, one part relief and twenty-two parts something she hasn't put her finger on yet. She starts towards his table, but she has to pass the doorway of a tavern to get there, and she doesn't quite make it past before a large man takes hold of her arm. She turns and glares him down, but for once it doesn't work. She aims a kick at the back of his knees but he doesn't fall, and he suddenly has both her hands in his grasp, above her head so she can't hit him. She's so distracted by him trying to kiss her that she tries to conjure blades and ends up littering the ground with blossoms. Oh dear, she thinks, and then decides on a new course of action.

***

There is a shriek from across the square so loud that he forgets the shards he's delicately removing from his palm. He looks up and sees a large man wrestling with a tiny black-haired girl. The dress she's wearing is oddly familiar. When her chi suddenly spikes and everyone is showered with blossoms, he recognises her. It's Reika. He disappears into his hat, leaving the pretty girl gaping.

***

She pauses her tirade when she notices two hands protruding from a hat, floating behind the beefy man's shoulders. The big man notices that she's stopped yelling and pauses to see why. He doesn't have long to wonder however, because soon he's flying across the square and landing precariously close to a large bonfire.

Reika's on her knees on the stones, watching him silently. He offers her a hand and she takes it. Why are you here, she asks. Nevermind, he says. Why aren't you at the palace, you know?

***

She tells him she was distracted. No need to say why. She thought the festival might distract her from the distractions.

He knows she's leaving something out, but mostly he believes her. She hadn't changed much. He hasn't let go of her hand and he decides that it's nice, standing here at a festival, holding a pretty woman's hand. He knows it's not long before her common sense comes back and she starts asking questions, so he decides they should go somewhere quieter. He smiles to himself, before pulling her into a hug and both of them into his hat and taking them to the palace garden. She doesn't seem too suprised, but she does look curious. She asks again. Why are you really here?

She reaches for his other hand, and he's so intrigued by her that he forgets about the glass. She starts to say his name softly, but instead says you're bleeding. He flinches and she hopes it's because it hurts and not from her touch. She tells him to sit down and he does, and she sits with her thigh touching his in the grass and his hand in her lap and gently picks the shards from his hand. He removes his mask and sets it on the ground beside them. He's looking at her eyelashes and the flickers of blue under them so intently that he doesn't hear her speaking until she repeats the question.

I'm not stupid, she says. I know you're avoiding the question. But you can't pull that zen master crap with me, Chichiri. He grins in spite of himself. Why'd you come back to Konan?

He answers back, how did you know I was at the festival, you know?

She blushes, to her disgust. He sees it and wonders. And then he decides that tonight will have to be a changing point for them. They can't go back or forward as they are, edging around their feelings. He's nearly sure now. He can feel their chi in the air, mixing together and nervous. She knows he saw her blushing. I didn't know you were there at first, she says. I just hoped you might be.

Chichiri leans forward, so far that their hair mixes together. Pale and dark between their shoulders. Why, he whispers, but she's entranced and she can't answer. He leans closer again. Neither of them know who starts it, but soon their lips meet gently. He moves his hand down her bare arm and suddenly the kiss isn't so gentle anymore. The warm contact between them isn't enough. With a sigh, he pulls away and with a sigh, she lets him. He rests his cheek against her own for a moment, then kisses along her jaw. When he pulls back to look her in the eye, they're a little glazed over.

I dreamt this, he admits. She looks suprised, then flattered. Finally she looks mischievous. It's an expression that he truly enjoys as it flickers on her features. She asks, Is that all you dreamed? He shakes his head no and reaches out to hold her by the waist, and her arms find their way to his neck. They kiss again.

The mask lies forgotten in the grass.


End file.
